


Less Than Expected

by Anonymous



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Violence/Blood/Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Awkward bonding time!
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: Anonymous





	Less Than Expected

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy~

As soon as Cyril felt the two bullets hit his stomach, the mission was over for him. 

3 minutes ago...

They(Cyril, Lana and Archer) were collecting blueprints for new military weapons planning to be sold illegally. The team was halfway through the mission when one of the officers found Cyril and Archer in their main office, rifling through the file cabinets. Archer turned his head towards the sound of the man’s footsteps, his eyes wide. He thought they took every guy out! Shit!

“Shit!” Archer yelled, pulling out his pistol and shooting at the officer. He missed, prompting Cyril to shoot next. 

“SUPPRESSING FI-“ Cyril managed to scream, lifting up the gun and shutting his eyes before Archer could tackle him, sending him to the floor behind the office’s metal desk in front of the cabinets.

“None of that shit Cyril! Just aim and fire!! Jesus!” Archer said angrily, lifting himself up from his hiding spot and shooting again.

“Argh!” The officer yelled, falling to the floor.

“Wh-why’re we here anyways, Archer?! Lana already has the damn blueprints! She’s been waiting for us at the extraction point!” Cyril complained, his back to the cold metal desk. Archer got back up, looking over the body he shot for a second before turning around, continuing to look through the cabinets.

“Cyril, anything we find here is better than nothing, grab that bottle of whiskey while you’re at it” Archer mumbled through the search. Cyril hesitantly agreed, getting up gingerly and turning around to stare at the officer they shot. His eyes flitted to the door, keeping watch intently. He failed to notice the downed officer lifting up his gun, still alive. He shot twice at Cyril, causing him to recoil slightly and fall backward in a grunt, his head smashing against the minibar behind him.

Everything went black. Cyril could still hear. Someone called out his name. More gunshots. Then, silence.

“Cyril? You with me buddy?” He could hear Archer say humorously. Cyril didn’t expect a sudden pressure to be put on his stomach, which sent him writhing on the carpet to escape Archer’s touch. He whimpered.

“None of that shit Contessa. God! Now I have to take your ass to extraction” Archer said irritably, his hands frantically balling up napkins and pressing them against Cyril’s now spilling guts. That was a bit of an over exaggeration, but Archer was better off thinking the injury was worse so he’d move faster. Psychological tactics were at their finest these days...

“Cyril, look at me. You’re blacking out here” Archer said, annoyingly patting Cyril’s face to rouse him. ‘Was he talking?’ Cyril thought hazily, lifting his pounding head up ever so slightly to make eye contact with his begrudging work partner. Archer’s blue eyes examined him carefully.

“I need to take this off” Archer said, removing Cyril’s overcoat swiftly and opening his button up to show his stomach, revealing two bullet holes in close proximity to one another.

“Shit..” Archer said under his breath. He patted Cyril’s shoulder anxiously before returning to his stomach. Cyril grabbed Archer’s hand in protest, gripping the bloody thing as hard as he could. Which turned out to be very lightly.

“Think you can stand? We’re getting out of here whether you like it or not” Archer said in a strangely reassuring tone. Cyril shifted his legs around experimentally, sitting up a little more. A dizzy spell hit him as soon as he did so, causing him to slump back down in pain.

“g’nna... g’nna puke..” Cyril bleated. Archer lifted an eyebrow in intrigue. As much as he’d love to see Cyril lose his lunch, he looked rather pathetic and sad, and it ALMOST made Archer feel something.

“...ahem. Okay.. let’s do this?” Archer said wearily, grabbing Cyril’s left hand to place it on his wound for him. “Hold that tight” he said, taking Cyril’s other arm slowly and bringing it around his shoulders. His other hand wrapped around Cyril’s waist for support.

“Up in 3.. 2..” Archer mumbled, getting up slowly with Cyril, who was breathing heavily. Cyril seemed to manage quite well on his own, holding his weight for a second before almost falling again, Archer rebalancing him. He whimpered again. Archer was having none of it.

“Lean on me you idiot” Archer said when he noticed Cyril keeping his distance. Now was not the time to be petty and awkward. They had to get out of here.

“I’m...... fine..” Cyril said through clenched teeth. He shut his eyes tight, the hand holding his wound shaking slightly. Archer brought him closer, taking most of his weight. 

Hmm. That actually felt... pretty nice, Cyril thought.

“If you stain the turtleneck you’re buying me a new one” Archer said, beginning to walk out of the office and over the dead bodies. They were all dead, right?

~~~~~

Archer and Cyril managed to half limp, half run to the exit, their pace being fast enough for Cyril to stay awake. WHAP! A bat came out of nowhere, hitting Archer square in the chest. He and Cyril fell in a heap, Archer’s pistol having fallen out of its holster. Cyril cried out in pain as he hit the ground, curling in on himself. As winded as Archer was, he managed to get up as quickly as possible, putting himself between the sudden bat-wielding fiend and a bleeding out Cyril. He put up his fists in invitation. The other guy smirked, dropping the bat in honour of a mano a mano fight. He charged at Archer, who blocked his incoming punch with his arm. Archer managed an elbow to the man’s ribcage, sending him sideways. 

Cyril’s vision was beyond shitty without his glasses, but he managed to make out the two figures throwing fists and kicks at one another. His periphery caught something else. He rolled his head to the right, confirming his suspicions when he saw Archer’s pistol on the ground next to him. He rolled on his side, regretting it immediately as the sharp pain in his torso protested violently. He stretched more in spite of his pain, managing to take the gun. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief, but he couldn’t roll back, it was too much pain..

Archer thought he had the winning hit. His eye was already bruised, countless other marks probably littering the rest of his covered body. The guy managed to put Archer in a chokehold, sending them both to the floor. Archer struggled to get a good hit in, let alone a breath of air. He was facing Cyril now, who was wielding... his gun?! He was aiming it at him now! What the fuck was he thinking?!?!

Cyril aimed blindly at the two blobs on the floor. He squinted his eyes, to no help. 

Archer could feel his blood being cut off from the arm holding him tight. The world was getting dark around the edges. If he passed out, who knows what this asshole would do to Cyril. Fuck!

Before Archer could fully conk out, BANG! He felt the arm holding his neck immediately loosen, the man behind him falling backwards, bullet hole between his eyes, dead. Archer took in a deep breath, holding his neck and hyperventilating slightly. What the fuck just happened?

“Cyril? W... was that you?” Archer suddenly asked, getting no answer. He got up from the floor quickly, a dizzy spell possessing him to sway slightly. He caught himself, making his way to the downed idiot. Cyril was on his side now, eyes half lidded and eyebrows furrowed in obvious pain. He was holding Archer’s gun shakily. Cyril lifted his hand up, offering the gun to Archer, who took it gratefully. 

“Aim... and fire... just like you- you said...” Cyril said weakly, smiling. He forced himself onto his back, wincing at the sudden change in position.

“You.. really saved my ass... I think I’m now obliged to owe you one” Archer said, putting his gun back in its holster. He kneeled down, extending an arm to Cyril, who took it. They got up again, Cyril deciding this time that it was best just to put most of his weight on Archer. What Cyril didn’t expect, was for Archer to then pick him up in a quick swoop, holding him bridal style.

“Huh?” Cyril blurted confusedly. He looked up at Archer blearily, who was watching him back.

“We’re almost at the Jeep, I’m gonna test my strength” Archer said, stepping forward. Cyril watched him carefully. Normally Archer’d leave him for dead in a jungle or something, and here he was, literally carrying Cyril to safety. 

Each step sent a shot of pain through Cyril’s body, so he closed his eyes tightly to distract himself, head lolling to the side to rest against Archer’s chest. 2 seconds in, he passed out. Archer started to run.

~~~~~

He felt the hard seat of the Jeep as he was laid down roughly, his head resting upon something contradictingly soft. He could hear Lana yelling obscenities at the duo, something in context to being late, and dirtying the Jeep with blood.

The ride back to safety was partially painful, with road bumps at seemingly every fucking turn. Physically, Cyril couldn’t even react. His body was paralyzed by the throbbing pain, both on his head and torso. Archer noticed the lack of movement, it worried him. 

“We’re almost there Cyril, keep the eyes open” Archer demanded, using his fingertips to open Cyril’s eyes. He was using his right thigh as a cushion for Cyril’s head, which was probably the only comfort Cyril had right now. When Cyril opened his eyes, they met Archer’s for a second, before looking around the inside of the Jeep confusedly.

“.. A.. Archer?.. What.. Where..?” Cyril asked, concerned by the fact that he just woke up somewhere entirely different. He tried getting up, a strong hand holding him down by the chest.

“Uh uh. You passed out. Probably have a concussion. We’re almost there so keep talking and stay awake, got it?” Archer requested with a bit of attitude. Cyril complied, his dizziness preventing him from arguing.

Archer managed to keep Cyril awake by pointlessly arguing with him. Every time Cyril’s eyes drooped, Archer’d give him a light slap on the cheek to rouse him. This went on until they made it to their destination. Cyril needed serious help, and quick.

~~~~~

3 days later, 9:14pm.

Mallory wasn’t a fan of sick days, convincing Cyril to come back into work rather early. Ray disagreed with her, but she didn’t seem to bat an eye at his disapproval.

Cyril was just about ready to end the day, packing his suitcase in his now dark office, a blue and white present sitting on his desk. He texted Archer to come see him for a second, if he’d even comply. 

He sighed, poking at his belly softly. The bandages were kind of tight around his torso, but he wouldn’t complain. His back was to the office door, Cyril backlit by the outside light coming from the rest of the agency. He could barely see, not having enough time to buy new glasses since losing them during the extraction.

He didn’t notice Archer striding into his office casually, coming up to pat him on the back. Cyril jumped.

“Bwah! Archer! You- you came! I... uh-“ Cyril stopped himself short, turning around again to grab the present on his desk quickly. He walked up to Archer, looking down.

“From- from the mission.” Cyril said, extending the present for Archer to take it. He failed to remember that moving his arms caused him a lot of pain, so he brought them back slowly, wincing. Archer looked at him curiously.

“You really shouldn’t have..” Archer said sarcastically, taking the present from Cyril and untying the cute white ribbon tied to it. He removed the lid, tossing it on the desk, removing the inside wrapping paper to reveal a bottle of bourbon whiskey... and two black turtlenecks, folded neatly beside. There was a letter on top of them. He took it gingerly.

“Really? This is super homo of you” Archer joked. Cyril continued looking down, blushing ever so slightly. Archer opened the letter quickly to get it over with.

It read:  
“Promise there isn’t blood on the turtlenecks” -C.F.

That was it. On such a big card too. Archer laughed genuinely. This was, honestly such a sweet gesture...

“Give me a minute” Archer said, putting the box down onto the desk and quickly running out of the office. Cyril stared out the door, his mind was a little blank. The bump on the back of his head was giving him a bit of a migraine, so he went to his desk chair, taking a seat and resting his head in his hands on the desk. 

Time flies when you’re in pain apparently, as Cyril hadn’t noticed Archer come back in. He heard something being put on the desk, then a hand rested on his shoulder.

“You okay there?” Archer asked Cyril, who looked up at him wearily. He tried to smile.

“Just, my head... I’m fine.” He said. He had a tendency to push people away when he was in pain. Archer pressed on.

“How’re the holes?” Archer asked jokingly, pointing at Cyril’s stomach. Of course he’d say it like that. 

“Huh? Oh... they’re.. they’re fine, I guess... the cane’s helping...” Cyril said. Archer nodded.

“Well- when you get the chance, open my present up. I forgot to give it to you after you.. got back from the ER.” Archer said shyly, feeling uncomfortable about bringing up Cyril in the hospital. He was nearly dead when they got him there. It was... a little terrifying. Just a little.

He patted Cyril’s shoulder twice again before turning around to leave.

“Hey Archer?” Cyril called out. He slowly got up from his seat on the chair, making his way to the taller man, who turned around again, tilting his head curiously. “What’s up?” Archer asked casually.

“Uh, well.. I wanted to.. to thank you, that’s all. For- for having my back. During the mission..” He said quietly, looking down again shamefully.

“I.. really thought you’d leave me or something. Or, I’d die before then, hahaha” Cyril laughed nervously, tearing up. He crossed his arms over his chest protectively. Archer furrowed his eyebrows incredulously.

“Leave you? Why the fuck would I just abandon a teammate like that? C’mon Cyril, we’re in this together, right?” Archer asked, getting a small sniffle in response. Cyril covered his eyes with his forearm, wiping at them.

“Yeah but you’re Archer. And you hate me.” Cyril said disappointedly.

Archer sighed. “We’re even, okay? You had my back too, you know. Shot that guy right between the eyes! I’m still pissed that you risked that shot though, you fucking nut” he said, lifting his hand to ruffle Cyril’s hair lightly, much to the shorter man’s irritation.

“Now stop crying or I’m gonna hug the shit out of you” he said suddenly. Did he... did he mean that?

Cyril looked up at Archer. They stared for a few seconds before Cyril lifted an eyebrow.

“...And you said my card was homo” Cyril retaliated though his tears. Archer chuckled, shoving Cyril’s arm playfully in return. They both laughed, looking at each other happily. 

“Oh,” Cyril said, turning around to take the present Archer left on his desk. It was... a glasses case? He opened it up, revealing a pair of brown tortoiseshell frames. What.. what good taste. Cyril was surprised.

"Also from the misson. Haha" Archer said, laughing at the strange coincidence.

Cyril stared at the present in awe. A sudden feeling washed over him, and Cyril turned around, closing the distance between him and Archer in a small hug. Archer froze at the touch, only relaxing a little bit after a few seconds. He slowly returned the hug and stroked Cyril’s back lightly, mindful of his injuries. 

"Thank you Archer. Really." Cyril said, squeezing Archer slightly. He could feel Archer laughing now.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, requests and critiques are highly appreciated :}


End file.
